Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Kid? Hey, kid. Reagan. C’mon, wake up.”

It took a couple of tries, but Jamie managed to peel his eyes open. Renzulli’s face flickered in front of him. “Sarge?”

“Thought you left already,” the older man huffed. “Go home, kid, get some sleep.” Great advice. Really. Jamie definitely planned on doing just that- as soon as he could make his body stand up. Renzulli clearly noticed the problem, ‘cause after a moment Jamie heard him sigh. “Reagan, how many fingers am I holding up?”

“Not funny,” Jamie muttered. Sure, his vision was going a little blurry at the edges, but the finger test? Seriously? “...three.”

“Hm.” Renzulli didn’t sound convinced. “You stop in here on your way out for some coffee?”

Right. Break room. Coffee pot. That was how Jamie convinced himself to walk down the hall after changing out of his uniform. Coffee, then car, then home. Then a twelve hour nap, minimum. Double shifts were bad enough, but doubles on only three hours sleep took it to a whole new level of awfulness.

A hand suddenly clapping him on the shoulder startled Jamie into opening his eyes back up, just in time to see Renzulli shaking his head. Right- coffee. He didn’t actually answer that question. “Sit tight, kid, I’ll call someone for ya.”

Call someone...? A cab? No, Jamie didn’t want to take a cab home- one, he didn’t want to leave his car at the station overnight, and two, the sergeant would almost certainly try to pay the fare in advance. He didn’t need to do that. But, by the time Jamie opened his mouth to say so, Renzulli was already gone.

He really needed coffee.

With a couple of deep breaths, Jamie hauled himself upright, and shuffled towards the counter. It took a lot of blinks to get a cup, then the pot, and to transfer lukewarm liquid from one to the other without spilling. Or at least without spilling much, anyway. Hot coffee would be preferable, though, so Jamie slid a couple of steps down to the microwave. Putting the cup inside? Simple. Setting the timer? Less simple. But he managed, after a few tries, to get it started for one minute. Considering how much the room seemed to wobble around him, though, standing at the counter waiting felt like a bad idea, so Jamie stumbled back over to his chair to wait.

He woke up to another hand on his shoulder. “Come on kid, time to get you home.”

Renzulli again? No- different voice. Grumpier voice. Danny.

“‘M fine,” Jamie grumbled, trying to lean away from his big brother’s prodding.

“Sure, and I’m gonna put in a transfer request to the North Pole this winter. Up and at ‘em, you gotta at least make it to my car, then you can sack out for the drive.”

...at least it wasn’t a cab.

Afterward, Jamie would only vaguely recall the steps involved in Danny getting him out of the station and poured into a backseat. His next clearest memory was hearing Linda’s voice, right as cool fingers pressed against his forehead.

“Danny, he’s burning up.”

“Yeah, I know- can you get the door? Thanks...”

More words drifted around his head, but Jamie couldn’t focus on them as he tried to make his feet work. Definitely couldn’t focus once the pressure around his shoulders was replaced with the wonderful sensation of landing on a mattress, and from that point on Jamie didn’t register anything else at all.

Chapter Text

“Jamie? You up?”

...hn.

“Not that I mind you crashing in our guest room, but if you don’t get a move on, the boys are gonna scarf down all the eggs and bacon.” A door creaked, and muffled footsteps crossed the carpet just before a hand poked him through the pile of blankets. “Kid?”

Nope.

An aggrieved sigh tore loose from the person standing over him. “Aren’t you too old for this by now? Feel like I’m trying to get you up for elementary school again.” And with that, the hand grabbed hold and yanked his covers off.

Jamie shuddered all over, immediately curling into himself with a pained groan. He’d already been cold, and without the blankets cold became freezing. Thankfully it didn’t last long - he heard the sound of a bitten-off curse, and then the fuzzy comforter came back, followed by the weight of at least one knit throw. That annoying hand didn’t leave him alone, though, pressing against Jamie’s aching head.

“Shit,” the voice said. And then it shouted, “Linda,” causing Jamie to flinch into his pillow. “Shit, sorry- sorry, kid. Won’t do that again.”

With extreme reluctance, Jamie tried peeling one eyelid open. He only managed a glimpse of a blurry figure with broad shoulders standing over him before the pain pulsed again. It struck him as familiar, though. Close enough to rasp out a single word: “Dad?”

A pause. “...yeah, you’re definitely delirious,” the voice muttered. But the hand against his forehead shifted, carefully stroking Jamie’s hair like his father always did when one of them got sick, and it made something settle inside.

“-didn’t, Sean, double check your backpack! What is it, Danny?”

“Jamie still has the fever from last night, can you grab that thermometer out of the bathroom?”

“You think it’s gotten worse?”

“I’m thinking if he thinks I’m our old man, I want to know exactly what his temperature is.”

As long as that hand kept carding through his hair, Jamie didn’t care about fevers or temperatures. At least until he took too deep a breath. The voice swore again when he started coughing; big, body-wracking coughs, which left Jamie gasping once they stopped and clutching at his chest.

Ow.

“I’m only handing this over if he isn’t going to accidentally inhale it.”

“Fair enough.”

“...’m okay,” Jamie whispered, eyes still squeezed shut. “‘M fine.”

“Shut up before you cough up a lung next,” one of the voices warned him. “Now open your mouth.”

At least the thin thermometer didn’t trigger anything, sitting under Jamie’s tongue until it beeped. The two voices stayed hushed as they debated whatever it said, but the hand stayed put in his hair, so Jamie let himself start to drift off. Only the sound of the door gently closing roused him again, an undetermined amount of time later.

“Alright,” the first voice announced, tugging the blankets further up around Jamie’s shoulders. “Linda’s heading out with the boys, she’ll pick up some soup and electrolyte powders or whatever on the way home. You are not going to get any hotter, or else I’m gonna have to drag your sorry butt to the hospital, which isn’t something either of us wants to have to deal with, I’m sure. On the other hand, if you wake up enough for it later, maybe I’ll get us shifted to the couch to watch some Looney Tunes like the old days. Sound good?”

Yeah. That sounded good. Jamie hummed, and let himself settle with the assurance of that hand still resting on his head.